


A Spy In Her Midst

by adjectivebear (HealerAriel)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Sex, Cheating, Crossover, Guilt, Multi, Rough Sex, little bit of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealerAriel/pseuds/adjectivebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A particularly obvious agent of Fen'Harel has joined the organization formerly known as the Inquisition. And though Ellana Lavellan knows he's trouble, she can't shake her intense attraction to him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spy In Her Midst

Iorveth was a spy.

Admittedly, Ellana had begun to suspect that of _every_ new elf who appeared at Skyhold looking to join the organization formerly known as the Inquisition, but Iorveth was a particularly terrible one. The man hadn’t an ounce of subtlety in his body, and by the way he watched Ellana—quite obvious when the watcher had only one eye—he had been assigned to spy on her, specifically.

Or, as Ellana increasingly theorized, he _thought_ that was his assignment.

Solas was not a stupid man. Moreover, he knew his agents, and it wouldn’t have taken a man even half as smart as Solas to realize, within moments of meeting him, that Iorveth could not be a successful infiltrator if his life depended on it.

No. Solas had another game in mind with this one. Ellana just hadn’t figured it out yet. Her initial impulse had been to turn him away, but Cassandra had stayed her hand.

“We _know_ he is one of Solas’s agents,” she had told Ellana one night when they were certain there were no prying eyes or ears about. “For now, here under our noses is where he can do the least damage.”

And for all that it galled her to live alongside an enemy agent feigning ignorance of his allegiance, Ellana had to admit that Cassandra was right. Here he was a nuisance, but one they could keep their eye on; working openly against them, he would be far a larger problem, indeed.

Iorveth was… violent. Brutal. Full of rage that exuded from his person, no matter how calm he appeared at any given moment. It was most obvious in his interactions with humans. He loathed them, and he made no particular effort to conceal it. Presumably he was under direct orders not to harm any members of the former Inquisition, or Ellana would not have been remotely surprised to find Cassandra and the others murdered in their beds.

It was, therefore, no small shock when Ellana realized that she was attracted to him.

At first she wrote it off as a product of her loneliness: a desire for something, anything to connect her to the man she loved, even if that something was an agent he had sent to hinder her progress. But as time wore on, she could not keep up that fiction with herself. She loved Solas, she longed for him, but she longed for Iorveth, too.

She had no illusions about loving him, no. She was not sure Iorveth was the sort of man she _could_ love, and even if he were, he could never compare to Solas. No one could.

Oh, but she _wanted_ him.

The thought made Ellana sick to her stomach. She was in love with Solas! How could she lust after one man when another held her heart? How could she ever hope to sway her love from his path if she could not even do him the courtesy of remaining loyal in his absence?

And she could not avoid him! Whether or not spying on her was Iorveth’s true purpose, he certainly seemed to believe it so, to the point that Ellana could hardly turn around without seeing his stupid, ruggedly handsome face somewhere nearby, that piercing, veilfire-green eye fixated on her every move.

Accepting that she could not avoid him, and reasoning that her attraction to him was rooted mainly in his mystique, Ellana went with a different approach: getting to know him. Surely, once she saw Iorveth as a normal man rather than some grand symbol of Solas’s forces, he would become vastly less intriguing and she could put her infatuation to rest.

And so, she began to seek him out. She never revealed anything of substance to him (he hid his disappointment poorly), nor did he to her, but he did not push her away, and slowly they developed a rapport. He still frightened her, his manner always that of a thunderstorm threatening at any moment to lash out at the earth below, but… less. By no stretch of the imagination was Iorveth a kind man—perhaps he was not even a _decent_ one—but by and by Ellana found that she understood him. Full of rage and hate he may have been, but it was not without reason—it never was, for elves, and he had suffered more than most.

So perhaps she should not have been so surprised when he kissed her.

Even in this, he was angry, his fingers tangled tightly into her hair, all teeth and tongue and no gentleness as he ravaged her mouth, swallowing her squeal of alarm.

“What are you doing?” Ellana gasped when he finally allowed her to catch her breath. She struggled to get out of his grasp, but he held her fast, his hand tightening painfully in her hair. His other arm snaked around her waist, pinning her to his body, and Ellana found herself instantly, shamefully wet.

“Do not play coy with me, Inquisitor,” he said, spitting the title as though it were poison. “Do you think I have missed your flirtations? I am no fool. I am doing  _precisely_   what you wish me to.”

“I have _not_ been—” Ellana's eyes went wide.

Yes, she had. Gods, she _had_ been flirting! She’d been flirting for _months_. Her mind flashed through their interactions—her smiles, her giggles, her would-be casual touches lingering on his arm, her “accidental” brushes against his body when they were in close quarters. She _did_ want this. She loved Solas, but she wanted this.

“Such a waste,” Iorveth continued, pulling her head back to trail a series of rough nips down her throat. “A strong elven woman like you, a glorified slave of these _shemlen_ ,” he snarled the word, making Ellana yelp out in pain as he sank his teeth into her shoulder.

“I’m not—” Elana swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in her voice, the hot coil of lust in her core as Iorveth tore at the fastenings of her shirt, baring her inch by inch to the cold night air. “I’m not their slave. I'm—”

“The Inquisitor? The Herald of Andraste?” He gripped a naked breast harshly and Ellana whimpered, arching into the touch. “Open your eyes, girl. You may have been of use to them once—you may still be, for a time—but you’ll never be anything more than a knife-ear to them. Don’t delude yourself. They will discard you the moment you cease to be of value. You have already seen it, how quickly they turn. You are _nothing_ to them.”

“And to _you_?”

“To me? To me, you are a girl in need of a lesson.” He kissed her again, no less savagely than before, his calloused hand kneading her breast. “Get on your knees, Inquisitor.”

Ellana blinked. “What?”

He pinched her nipple roughly. “Get on your fucking knees.”

Ellana was just lucid enough to be thankful that Master Dennet had retired for the night as she knelt on the hay-strewn stable floor, her head reeling. She could hardly wrap her mind around what was happening as Iorveth worked the laces of his trousers, freeing a sizeable erection from confinement. Ellana's mouth watered. “And exactly what sort of lesson is this meant to teach me,  _hahren_?” she asked, gasping when the mocking tone earned her a sharp slap across the face.

“Better uses for that mouth, for one,” Iorveth said, seizing her hair once more and jerking her head toward his cock. Ellana closed her lips tightly, earning her another slap. “You would do well to respect your elders, _da'len_ ,” he said dangerously.

Unsure whether it was fear or desire that had her trembling so, Ellana wrapped her lips around his cock. The thought that it was similar in size to Solas’s crossed her mind, and she buried it deep, unable to think of her love when she was on her knees before a man she wanted to fuck.

And Gods, how she wanted to fuck him.

Ellana had intended to go slowly, as she always had with—as she always had done in the past, but Iorveth had other plans. Using his grip on her hair to hold her in place, he began fucking her mouth with abandon. Ellana gagged at first, tears springing to her eyes, but then came to her senses enough to relax her throat, allowing him to slide into the passage with ease.

Above her, Iorveth laughed. “Look at you, little slut. You’re not having any trouble at all swallowing my cock. How many others have you had in that shem-loving mouth of yours?”

Ellana glared up at him, even as she felt herself soaking through her smalls. What was the _matter_ with her? Kneeling before a dangerous man she barely knew while he fucked her face and hurled insults at her—she should be horrified, not aroused!

But aroused she was, her cunt clenching needfully, her hand creeping up to grip his firm ass as he thrust himself down her throat. She moaned around his cock.

Iorveth laughed again. “You like this, don’t you? Whore.” He jerked her head back roughly, pulling himself from her mouth with a wet pop. “Hardly a lesson, then, is it?”

“Maybe you’re a bad teacher,” Ellana said, deeply ashamed that she had to bite back another moan when he slapped her for it. He dragged her to her feet, where she wobbled unsteadily on legs that had begun to go to sleep before she found herself tossed unceremoniously onto the nearest hay bale, her ass in the air. She let out a breathless laugh. “What? Are you going to _spank_ me?”

The hand that came down on her ass with a resounding smack answered that question. That slap was followed by another, and another, and Ellana squealed, torn between the instinct to shrink away from the pain and the overwhelming urge to arch up to meet his palm, to rub herself against that hand and to beg him for more. She shouldn’t like this, she told herself, biting her lip against the moans threatening to spill out of her. She shouldn’t like this, and she shouldn’t have need to squeeze her thighs together, chasing after the orgasm that threatened with each subsequent blow—

The hardest slap yet landed on the backs of her legs, and she cried out, surprise causing them to part of their own accord.

“Do not _dare_ ,” Iorveth growled, wedging his own thigh between hers, but stopping just short of where she needed it. “You will come when I let you, and not before.”

Ellana nearly sobbed, her clit aching just as much as her abused backside. “Please!”

“ _Please_?” he mocked. “Found your manners, now, have you? Maybe you’re learning, after all.” He tugged her leggings and smalls down to her knees and Ellana flushed, the night air much too cold against her sodden folds. She grasped onto the faint hope that he wouldn’t notice how wet she had become, but the cruel laugh behind her dashed it. “Dripping. You _are_ a whore.”

Ellana's retort died on her tongue as he plunged two fingers into her cunt.

“Well, well,” Iorveth said conversationally, curling his fingers in a way that made her go cross-eyed. “Perhaps not. Your cunt’s tight as a virgin’s. It’s been some time since you were fucked, hasn’t it?”

Not trusting her voice, Ellana nodded, lifting her hips to meet each thrust of his fingers.

“Do you want to get fucked, Inquisitor?”

Ellana clenched her teeth.

Iorveth delivered a fierce slap to her bare ass, and she cried out in pain. “You will answer me when I ask you a question, girl,” he said.

Ellana whimpered.

He slapped her again. “So that I can _hear_ you. Do not make me repeat myself.”

Ellana swallowed hard. Trembling from head to toe, she said, “Yes.”

The fingers withdrew, and Ellana squirmed as the blunt head of his cock pressed against her opening. She drew in a shaky breath as he bent over her, his warmth briefly shielding her from the mountain air. He nipped sharply at her ear. “Say ‘please,’ Inquisitor.”

“P-please.”

She cried out as he thrust into her, the intrusion painful despite her arousal. It had been too long since S—since Ellana had been with a man, something that was all too apparent as her cunt struggled to accommodate his length.

But if he noted her discomfort, he paid it no mind.

Iorveth fucked like he kissed, hard and brutal, without a shred of tenderness, and gods forgive her, Ellana loved every moment of it. She would surely have bruises where his fingers dug into her hips to hold her steady while he pounded into her, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was his thick, hard cock, filling her so full, hitting all the right spots inside until—

He pulled out suddenly, and Ellana nearly screamed. Iorveth seized her hair and yanked her head back, contorting her spine awkwardly. “Did I give you permission to come?”

“I—I wasn’t going to—”

He gave her head another hard jerk. “Don’t lie to me. Moaning like a whore. You would have disobeyed me any second.”

Ellana trembled violently—from the cold, from arousal, from the fear she still felt around Iorveth; she couldn’t tell anymore—and took a steadying breath. “Yes. I would have.”

“And would that have been acceptable?”

“No.”

“Correct,” Iorveth said, giving her cunny a sharp smack that brought her even closer to the edge. “Now. Can you obey?”

“I can try.”

Another smack. “I did not ask you to _try_.”

“But—”

Another.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ellana sobbed. “Yes, I can obey.”

Iorveth stroked her backside as though she were a beloved pet. “Good girl.”

Ellana nearly wept with relief when he plunged back inside her, the chill lent to his wet cock by the night air shocking enough to allow her to keep her promise, at least for the moment. She tried to move with him, but he clutched her hips again and held her fast, resuming his punishing pace. He fucked her as if she were an object, Ellana realized. There was no love in this, no fondness; in truth, there may not even have been any attraction on his part. Iorveth wanted to fuck, he knew Ellana was willing, and so he was fucking her.

Gods help her, it was exactly what she wanted.

On edge as she was, desperate as she was, it did not take long until Ellana was writhing beneath him, clawing at the hay, biting her lip in hopes that the pain could stave off her release until he deigned to allow it.

It wasn’t working.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please, please, Iorveth, I need…”

“I know what you need,” he said. He slipped his hand beneath her, and her eyes rolled back in her head as his calloused fingers rubbed her clit. “You have my permission to come.”

And she did, almost instantly, a scream ripping from her throat and stars bursting before her eyes as her cunt clenched hungrily around him, milking his cock. He did not slow his thrusts even for a moment, and almost as soon as that orgasm had subsided, another began, just as intense as the first, leaving her limp and shaky in its wake.

Iorveth pulled out of her, growling as he spilled his seed on her legs.

“Oh, Gods,” Ellana moaned, slumping bonelessly against the hay bale. Gods, she had needed that! She hadn’t come that hard since—

Oh, Gods.

Oh, Gods, what had she _done_? She bolted upright, her legs nearly giving out beneath her as icy panic lanced through her heart.

Iorveth was lazily relacing his trousers, and in that moment Ellana rather hated him. Gods, she hated both of them. “Second thoughts, Inquisitor?”

“Please,” Ellana said, hurriedly righting her clothes. “Please, don’t tell him. He can’t know this happened, Iorveth, _please_.”

Iorveth cocked his eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know _exactly_ who,” Ellana snapped. “The man you work for. I am no fool, either, Iorveth, and you are the least subtle agent of Fen'Harel I’ve ever met.”

Iorveth’s eye widened, his mouth falling open. Truly, a _terrible_ spy. “I—You _knew_?”

Ellana gave him a patronizing look.

Iorveth swore, driving his fist into the wall. “And why, of all things, would it matter that we—” he froze then, the color draining from his face as he turned to look at her, horror dawning on his features. “There were rumors. I thought that was all they were. I paid them no heed, but it’s true, isn’t it? You and Lord Fen'Harel.”

Ellana's heart felt as if it might shatter on the spot. “Yes.”

“Fuck! Fuck,” he spat, beating a hasty retreat into the shadows.

And Ellana never saw him again.


End file.
